


Interlude I

by Sparrowsverse



Series: Peter and the Wolf [4]
Category: The Monkees
Genre: Alternative Universe - Werewolves, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparrowsverse/pseuds/Sparrowsverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Monkees find out the consequences of what Peter’s blood did to Mike and there’s news from England.  And what’s up with Mr. Babbitt?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude I

**Author's Note:**

> This series is a lot of fun to write and I hope everyone else reading this fic is enjoying themselves too. Many thanks to the people who let me toss ideas against their head and then they tossed some back. Also, thanks to sierraphoenix for the beta!

Within those few days of waiting for Jack, Mike learned exactly what Peter’s blood did to him.

He could communicate with werewolves in their wolf form.

His hearing was slightly better.

He also found he had some excess energy.

And when angry, he growled and his eyes flashed amber.

But perhaps the most embarrassing trait he got from all of this was the ‘puppy affection mode’ as Jack first coined the term to them.

While not the most touchy-feely guy. Only occasionally giving out a pat on the shoulder or a small hug, Mike found that he now craved touch.

While he wouldn’t instigate the touch, he would lean into it.

It was driving him nuts and Mike was hoping Jack would have some answers.

~~~

Peter was busy making lunch when Jack pulled up to The Pad.

“Peter!! Jack’s here!” Micky called out.

“Think you can let him in while I finish these sandwiches, Micky?” Peter called over his shoulder.

“No problem, Big Pete!” Micky grinned as he slid off his drum stool and headed over to the door.

Heading over to the door, Micky opened the door just as Jack was about to knock.

“Hey Jack!” Micky grinned as he let the alpha wolf in.

“Micky! How are you doing pup?” Jack grinned back as he gave the drummer a hearty hug.

Micky patted Jack on the back and returned the hug. “Oh, can’t complain. We got a gig coming up in a few days.”

“Yeah? Any place I’d know?” Jack asked.

“We are at the illustrious Vincent Van-Go once again,” Micky posed with his nose turned up in the air, a posh accent filtering through his voice.

Jack chuckled. “Been there a time or two. It’s an okay place.”

Peter set down the plate of sandwiches, some vegetables and dip, a pitcher of lemonade and a big pot of soup.

“Just in time for lunch, Jack,” Peter said.

“Lucky for me, I’m starving,” Jack grinned. “Where’s Davy and Mike?”

“Gone for a jog. Mike’s trying to work off some extra energy,” Peter said as set the cutlery and plates out. “Davy decided to join him.”

“Oh, that’s probably a bad idea, especially if Mike got some werewolf stamina running through him now,” Jack grimaced as he helped himself to the food.

“Oh?” Micky raised an eyebrow.

“Prepare to see one very tired singer, when they get back,” Jack grinned around his glass.

That statement proved true a few minutes later, with Mike supporting a visibly tired Davy.

“Never again, Mike!” Davy panted out. “Never again!”

Mike chuckled as he set Davy on one of the kitchen chairs.

The others joined in the chuckling as Davy inhaled the glass of water Peter set in front of him.

Sniffing the air slightly, Mike paused and then started a low growl in his throat.

Peter cocked his head to the side. “What’s wrong, Mike?”

Mike turned his head and the brown eyes flashed amber as he glared at Jack.

“Oooh, I think I know what the problem is here,” Jack winced. “Two Alphas in the same room.”

“But you’ve been in the same room before and you’ve never growled,” Micky pointed out as Peter tried to calm Mike down.

“True, but Mike there never had any of the wolf in him before either,” Jack said as tried to give off ‘I’m harmless’ vibes.

Mike growled again but then relaxed with a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry, it’s not you, it’s just…”

Jack smiled. “I get it. Shoulda seen me the first time I met another alpha.”

“What did you do?’ Micky asked with wonder in his voice.

“Nearly tore the other guys head off,” Jack said matter of fact.

“Ouch, he wouldn’t have been able to get ahead in life if it did come off,” Davy joked as he nervously tugged at his neck with his hand.

“Davy!” The other three Monkees chorused together.

The older werewolf chuckled at that joke. “Nothing wrong with a little humor.”

Mike sat down finally and helped himself to a plate of food.

After lunch was consumed and the plates washed, dried and put away, The Monkees and Jack sat in the living room to discuss the changes in Mike.

“So, Mike. You might’ve noticed a few changes going on with ya,” Jack began.

“You could say that,” Mike understated.

“No one’s really sure how Communicators are made, but just certain people got the knack for it and it needs some kind of trigger,” Jack said. “In this case, it was Peter’s blood.”

“So what can Communicators do?” Micky asked.

“Well, one of their senses is increased, could be any five of ‘em. Increased stamina,” Jack said.

“I can vouch for that,” Davy tiredly waved.

The others chuckled.

“When angry, a werewolf trait will emerge.”

“Flashing amber eyes, check,” Micky grinned.

“And of course communication with a werewolf when said werewolf is in wolf form.”

“Charlie and Paul definitely proved that,” Davy said.

“I think Mike got a bit of the puppy affection mode too,” Pete added.

Jack looked at Mike. Mike turned his head away and nodded.

“Whoo-whee, you got the full package there,” Jack whistled.

“Wonderful,” Mike grumbled.

Peter bumped Mike with his shoulder. “It’s not so bad and now I have someone to talk to if and when I go wolf at home here.”

Mike smiled at that. “That you do, shotgun.”

“Pack might want you to put in an appearance or two,” Jack said sheepishly. “Been a long time since we had a Communicator.”

“I’ll think about it,” Mike said. “I’m not some dog and pony show. Got my own pack to think about here.”

Jack nodded, indicating he understood. “That's all I'm asking”

“Whelp, I think I’m about done here,” Jack said as he stood up. “You boys have anymore questions for me, feel free to give me a call.”

“He didn’t really explain anything,” Davy mumbled to Micky.

Micky nodded.

“Thank you so much for coming over, Jack,” Pete grinned as he hugged the older werewolf.

“Ah, don’t worry about it, Peter,” Jack returned the hug and Davy showed him to the door.

Just as Davy opened it, there stood Mr. Babbitt, fist raised to knock or pound.

"Oh! Hello, Mister Babbitt!" he blinked in surprise.

Mr. Babbitt jerked a thumb at Jack. “If he’s another roommate, the rent goes up!”

Jack laughed. "Guest, just leaving."

As Jack started to leave, Mr. Babbitt caught the older werewolf’s eyes.

Jack shivered as he saw rage and anger in those dark, nearly black, brown colour eyes. What also shook him to the core was the scent of faded old blood that drove his inner wolf nearly into a frenzy. He clamped on the urge to tear this man’s face out.

“Something the matter?” Mr. Babbitt grunted out.

"No," Jack lied through his teeth.

Mr. Babbitt grunted again and then turned those eyes on Mike. “Rent’s due inna couple of days, just making sure you musicians know that.”

“We know, Mr. Babbitt,” Mike nearly growled. He didn’t like what he was hearing or smelling.

The landlord’s eyes narrowed at that near growl, spun on his heel and brushed past Jack on his way out. The silver ring he wore on his right hand touched flesh.

Jack bit back a hiss as the ring burned his hand.

“Two days or you’re all out!” Mr. Babbitt growled out as he stomped away.

"That was...... what WAS that?" Peter growled.

“I don’t know. I never felt or smelled anything like that ever,” Jack whispered out.

Micky grabbed the first aid kit and got out some bandages.

Handing a roll to Davy, the singer carefully unwound the cloth as Micky rubbed antibiotic cream on the burn.

Jack watched as the two deftly and quickly wrapped up his hand. “I’m bringing this to the attention of the other alphas. We’ll let you know what we find.”

“And until then?” Mike asked warily.

“Stay away from him as much as you can,” Jack ordered and then left The Pad.

"Two days to get the rent," Davy yelped.

“I reckon we’ll make it,” Mike assured. “We have before and we’ll do it again.”

~~~

It was nearly a day later when the telegram arrived.

Earlier they had tried a quick rich scheme to make some fast money, but all it did was give Micky a rash from the grass skirt and coconut bra.

Micky was still scratching at his skin when he noticed it. “HEY DAVY!!!”

“WOT?!”

“TELEGRAM FOR YA!!”

“I’LL READ IT AFTER MY DATE!!”

“I DON’T KNOW, IT LOOKS IMPORTANT!!”

“WILL YOU TWO QUIT YER YAPPIN’ AND TALK FACE TO FACE,” Mike yelled out from the bedroom upstairs.

Micky sheepishly grinned as Davy walked out of the bathroom and handed him the telegram.

Davy tore into the envelope and shared the sheepish grin with Micky. Unfolding it, the singer’s eyes scanned the paper.

With every word he read, he grew paler and paler.

Micky placed a hand on Davy’s shoulder in concern. “Everything okay, Davy?”

Davy frantically shook his head.

Leading the singer to the chair, Micky sat him down as Davy stared out at nothing. Peter tore into living room from his bedroom where he had been napping.

“What’s wrong? I could smell Davy become fearful,” Peter growled out, eyes flashing amber.

“I don’t know! He got some sort of telegram. He still hasn’t let go of it,” Micky gestured, frustrated.

“Go get Mike, I’ll see if I can find out what’s going on,” Peter told Micky.

Micky nodded and headed upstairs.

“Davy? What’s going on?” Peter asked gently.

Davy wordlessly handed the telegram to the werewolf.

Taking it, Peter read it over and his face grew apologetic. “Oh, I am sorry, Davy.”

“You know things like this happen Peter, but when you read about it,” Davy whispered.

Peter drew Davy into a hug and the smaller man released frantic sobs as tears soaked Peter’s shirt.

Mike and Micky watched the scene as the drummer took the telegram from Peter’s hand.

They read it over and soon joined the embrace.

“I have to head back to England,” Davy said finally after clinging to Peter.

“So your grandfather is sick,” Mike stated as they withdrew from the group hug. “We’re all comin’ with ya.”

“I couldn’t ask you fellas to do that,” Davy said with a small sad smile.

“Well you’re not asking, we’re telling ya,” Micky said. “Besides, didn’t your grandfather say he’d pay for rent and plane tickets?”

“I think that’s a fair trade,” Peter smiled. “Us, for rent and plane tickets.”

“What’d I do to ever deserve you guys?” Davy asked affectionately.

“You can carry a beat,” Micky grinned.

“You aren’t that bad to be around,” Peter added.

“Plus, you know our songs,” Mike finished. “It’d take too long to train someone else.”

Davy laughed at his friends cheered him up. “Thanks mates! Needed that.”

“Any time, Davy,” Micky grinned.

“Well at least this will take care of rent for the next little bit,” Peter pointed out.

“Don’t have to worry about Mr. Babbitt either,” Mike growled.

The Monkees nodded and they quickly got to work.

Within the day they had various things organized.

Phone calls were made to Jack to tell him where they were going and did they need to worry about werewolf packs in England.

They didn’t.

But they might want to avoid Ireland.

Money wired in from Davy’s grandfather was handed directly to Mr. Babbitt by Micky.

The landlord grew suspicious at the amount, but Micky explained what was going on and that they wouldn’t be back for a few months.

Surprisingly, Mr. Babbitt’s expression softened at that news and told them not to worry about their house while they were away.

Bags were packed and tickets handed out.

Soon, they would arrive in England.

Watch out Europe, because hey, hey, The Monkees were on their way.


End file.
